


Recovery

by TonyStankandPetieBoi



Series: Irondad h/c bingo [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adopted Peter Parker, Angst, Broken Bones, Cinnamon Roll Peter Parker, Crying, Cute Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Cute Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Irondad, Omorashi, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Cries, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Recovery, Tired Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, and not the focus of this fic, but not a lot, little bit of omorashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28676928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStankandPetieBoi/pseuds/TonyStankandPetieBoi
Summary: Peter breaks his leg, this is the trials and tribulations of waiting for it to heal.
Relationships: Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Irondad h/c bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101773
Comments: 3
Kudos: 109





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first square of my irondad bingo that I made. Theirs a tiny winy bit of omarashi, but it’s not really the focus of the fic. So you can probably skip past it, if you find that gross. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy, this was super fun.

“Do you want another apple juice?”

Peter could not stomach another single apple juice, the sweet taste was now sickly to him. He doesn’t know how many he’s had, but he guesses it has to be over 50 of them over the past week. This healing business is so boring, so annoying. He can’t explain to you how much he hates this, he thrives on being able to move around. He has endless amounts of energy, and sitting here is wasting him away. 

“No. I wanna get up.”

“Well too bad, you can’t.”

The mopey face he makes is clearly funny to Tony because he chuckles lightly. Ruffling his curls and shaking his head, “No amount of sad puppy faces is gonna make me give you the go ahead to walk around. You’re still healing buddy, you don’t wanna go and break it again do you?”

“No.” He really doesn’t to be honest, he remembers the pain that came with breaking his leg. It was excruciating, he doesn’t cry from a lot of pain, he’s usually very good at suppressing his pain. But that pain, it cracked his tough exterior, it made tears spring to his eyes and roll down his soft cheeks. He hates even more, the fact that it wasn’t even a bad guy that broke his leg. It was a slippery bath.

It had to have been the most embarrassing thing he’d done, he hadn’t wanted to have even confessed to Tony what’d happened. 

—•

⎊ (✋🏻Flashback🤚🏻) 

—•

Peter shook his wet mop of hair around, flinging droplets of water up onto the shower walls. He’d only just turned the shower off, he was completely ready to step out of the shower and go change. But his foot slipped, and as much as he wouldn’t like to admit, he can be pretty clumsy sometimes. Especially when he’s not out being Spider-Man, he’s not usually on high alert, he’s just back to his old clumsy Peter Parker self. Which is why he definitely wasn’t ready for his foot to slip forwards, his other leg already outstretched to step out of the bath. He isn’t prepared for his left knee to slam into the side of the ceramic bath, and the thigh of his other leg to slam into the lip of the side of the bath. He swears he can hear the crack his thigh makes because he could sure feel the pain. 

The one thing for sure he knows he hears is the rush of blood in his ears, and the fast beating of his heart. His thigh throbs in tandem with his heartbeat, tears slowly leaking from his eyes as he gasps in pain. He can’t catch a breath, slowly hyperventilating. He knows he needs to calm down, so he does, he slows his breathing down. It takes all of his energy to do so, so once he’s finally calmed down, he slumps into the bottom of the bath, leg still dangled over the edge. It takes a while for him to gain enough courage to push himself up from the bath, but it takes a while, a lot of puffing and tears. It hurts so much that at one point he almost gives in, stops trying and just lays in a broken mess at the bottom of the bathtub. 

But he doesn’t. He pushes himself up, finally, instead of standing he just climbs over the side on his hands and knees. Careful not to move his thigh too much or touch it on anything, which is hard seeing as every movement causes spikes of pain to run up his thigh and into his abdomen. He feels sick, the gurgling of his stomach not really doing much to distract him from the pain, it just adds to it. He doesn’t stand up even then, just reaches for the rather expensive fluffy towel and wraps it around his waist. It does scrape across his thigh, and as he looks down trying to aim the towel away from his thigh, he sees the bruise already forming, and it looks awful. It doesn’t take a lot of deduction to figure out it’s probably broken, he just doesn’t know how bad.

Once he’s secured the towel, he makes his way to the door, blindly fumbling for the door handle and twisting it open. He tries to push the door open quietly, he doesn’t want to bring any attention to himself. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, he just wants to go back to his bedroom and sleep in peace. Cuddled up in his fluffy iron man blanket. He’s lucky that no-ones in the hallway, and all he has to do is shuffle painfully one door down. He can’t remember ever being so glad that he’s right next to the bathroom, even if he has to listen to other people go to the toilet. It’s an awful sound, but he can’t say that he really cares that much right now. It’s funny though, when he gets to listen to the things people sing when they shower. It’s nice to hear Tony singing fluent italian, something he never knew he could share with the man. 

He doesn’t bother to shut the door behind him, just starts to make the painful journey to his bedroom. He finally gets there, pushing that door open too, glad that when he’d left it he’d only pushed the door up. He slams it behind him, making his way towards the clothes he’d neatly piled up on his chair. He pulls them all on after he manages to pull himself up onto the bed. It hurts though, when he ends up pulling on his hamstrings, the muscles bruised, obviously very badly. He swallows down the vomit that rises up his oesophagus.

It takes a long while to slip his comfy sweatpants on, but he’s glad once he has. He shuffles his way back onto the bed. He just slumps back into it, head falling back into his comfy pillows. Pulling in the soft, warm blankets, he tries his best not to move. Laying as completely still as he can, it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep. All the adrenaline and shock having left his body, leaving him tired and in pain. 

(

It’s his bedroom door opening that wakes him up, but he doesn’t open his eyes. Instead choosing to breathe steadily through the pain, which is considerably worse now than it was yesterday. Before it had just been a throbbing now it was incessant, it hurt with every breath. The pain spiking through his leg and all the way into his head. 

“Pete, it’s time to get up. You know what today is, I told you to get up early.”

All Peter does is mumble incoherently, turning his head and shoving it unceremoniously into the pillow. Not caring of the fact that he’s cutting off his own airways. He hears the sigh and the quiet shuffle of feet, knows that Tony is entering his bedroom further, intending fully on getting Peter out of bed. He feels the dip in the bed, next to his right thigh. It’s unexpected, and it moves his thigh against the mattress slightly. It sends his leg into a new spiral of lancing pain, throbbing up through his leg and into his abdomen. It spikes into his head too. A wave of nausea rushes over him, he ignores the tears pricking at his eyelids. Shoving his head into his pillow even further, just wishing the pain away. 

“Fri, be a good girl and open the blinds?”

Light floods the room, burning into his closed eyelids. It’s torture for his already overwhelmed senses, the pain having dialed them even further than their usual 11. He whines, trying to escape the light’s evil clutches. He can’t escape it though, his face is already mushed into the pillow and he knows he’s already suffocated himself too much. He needs to take a breath, so he lifts his head, he already regrets it. He manages to suck a couple of shaky breaths in, before he dives back in. Clenching his eyes shut until his vision turns red and fuzzy.

“Peter, come on, up and at ‘em.”

Tony doesn’t try to poke or prod him, Peter knows that he somehow hopes it won’t resort to that. He just hopes that Peter will get up of his own volition. He feels guilty, but on any other day that would instantly make him get up, not willing to bear the brunt of Tony’s disappointment. But today he doesn’t have an ounce of energy or will to get up, he’s too scared of how much it will hurt when he moves his leg. “Nooooo.”

“Alright Peter, that’s enough. I told you to get up early today, you know how important this is. Not just to me, but to Morgan too. You know that she’s been talking about this for at least two weeks. Now come on Pete, get up.” 

Peter doesn’t expect it, doesn’t see it coming. It happens both so quickly, and then so slowly. In a matter of seconds, Tony’s hand comes down, patting Peter’s thigh. It’s not even that hard, it’s a light pat. But it’s on Peter’s bad thigh. He doesn’t like to admit that he screamed, but let’s face it, he did. The pain that followed, seconds after Tony’s hand met his thigh.  _ Was excruciating. _ It feels as if Tony’s hand connects right with his femur, pain cracking through the break he’s certain is there.

The scream he lets loose is loud, head raising of his pillow. His whole body goes rigid, sharp tears springing from his eyes. Tony’s hand retreats faster than it had come, obviously shocked at the sound that had escaped his protege. Peter can’t help but sob, taking rapid shaky breaths, none of them truly fill his lungs. Hot tears escape, splashing down his cheeks. 

“Holy shit Pete, what the hell was that?” Tony’s hand is already pulling the blankets away from his body, so he can see his thigh. “Did you get stabbed? Why didn’t you tell me?” But Tony’s quick to realise that’s not the case, seeing as there’s no traces of blood. Peter doesn’t really bother to pay attention, too busy whimpering and sobbing from the pain. “M-my leg, i-it hurts.”

“What is it, what’s wrong with it?”

Peter doesn’t have the words, he can’t think. The pain all encompassing. He just tilts his head upwards, gasping for breath. He can see Tony through the wall of his tears, standing up from the bed and approaching the top half of his body. A calloused hand cups the back of his head, a rough thumb stroking lovingly across his cheek. It swipes the tears off the damp skin. “Oh buddy. You gotta tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you and stop the pain if I don’t know why you’re hurting.”

He sniffles, nuzzling into the hand around his head. “I-i think i-it’s broken.”

The hand around his head tightens for a few seconds. “Ok buddy, I can work with that. Can you tell me how you broke it?”

He shakes his head rapidly, enough that it rocks the bed, making him instantly regret it. “N-no, I can’t i-it’s embarrassing.” he whimpers, sniffling with the tears still silently falling down his face.

The hand on his face slides forward, cupping his cheek. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won’t laugh, nothing you could tell me can be as embarrassing as peeing yourself in front of a shit ton of people at your own party.”

“R-really?”

“Yep, now spill the beans.”

With his head tilted away from Tony, he lowers his voice. As quiet as he can make it, without it being indecipherable. “I slipped and slammed it into the top of the bath.” 

Tony’s fingers tap his chin, gripping his chin gently and turning his face back to Tony. Their eyes meet, Tony’s chocolate brown orbs filled with love and sympathy, Peter’s also chocolate brown eyes filled with tears and embarrassment, paired with the flush on his cheeks. “It’s fine, that isn’t embarrassing. If you’re in pain, there’s definitely nothing to laugh about. Now, why don’t we get you down to the medbay, get some good drugs in you and have Bruce take a look at that leg.” 

“O-ok.”

Tony smiled, pulling his hand back. “I’m gonna have to carry you. It’s probably gonna hurt a lot, I'm gonna put my hand underneath your knees. I won’t even touch your thigh, but when I go to lift you, you need to take a deep breath. Okay bud?”

“OK, let's do this.”

Tony slips an arm behind Peter’s back, the other sliding carefully underneath his knees. “Deep breath Kiddo.” Peter breathes deep, as soon as he does so, Tony bends his knees, lifting upwards. He winces internally when Peter’s knees and thighs knock together, Peter letting out an agonised scream. And then it cuts off, Peter slumping unconscious into Tony’s arms. 

—•

“Pete? You with me bud?”

There’s a snapping in front of his face, fingers hovering right in the forefront of his vision. He shakes the memory from his mind, glancing up at his mentor, who’s sat at the side of his bed, apple juice in his other hand. “I’m good, um, why do you have apple juice? I thought I said I didn't want one.”

“Well you’ve been in your own little world for a good ten minutes, which doesn’t seem good. I’m guessing you're still out of it from the drugs, and I think staying hydrated isn’t gonna harm you, now drink up.” he shoves the carton of apple juice in Peter’s direction, waiting for Peter to take it from him.

Peter just shakes his head, not moving his arms to take the apple juice. “I don’t want it.” raising his head, he shifts it away from Tony.

Sighing Tony moves toward the bed, sitting on the side of it. He unwraps the straw, piercing the lid, he raises his arms, holding the carton in one hand and the straw in the other. “Pete, here I'll hold it, and all you have to do is drink, all right bud?”

“Fine.” Peter folds, but not without rolling his eyes dramatically, and slumping his shoulders in annoyance. But as soon as he places his lips around the straw and starts to swallow, he’s grateful for the way the cool liquid soothes his throat. Once he finishes, he pulls back, smiling gratefully up at Tony. “Thank you, dad.”

“That’s alright bambi, now lay back down and i’ll go find you something to munch on alright?” Tony cups his face, tracing his thumb over his cheek and making eye contact while he waits for an answer. Peter nods, instead of using verbal communication. Tony smiles, leaning in and dropping a loving kiss on Peter’s crown. He pulls back, turning for the door and leaving Peter to dwell on his thoughts of the embarrassment he’d dealt with a week ago.

—•

He made his way to the kitchen, walking through surprisingly empty hallways. When he got there, he rooted through the many different cupboards for some chips or something that Peter would like to snack on, something that would be good for raising his blood sugar. He didn’t get very far in his search before he heard the sound of heels walking across the shiny marble floor. “Hey honey, how’s it going?”

“You know damn well how it’s going Tony, you were supposed to pick up Morgan, and I can’t do that and go to five different meetings.”

“Oh, shit.”

Pepper’s facial expression doesn’t change, just staying in the same angry disappointment it always does when Tony forgets something or doesn’t do what he’s supposed to. “Yeah, Oh, shit. Now go.”

“OK, OK, fine.” Tony slams a cupboard shut, racing towards the elevator. Any thoughts of Peter leave his mind. Something he later, deeply regrets. He only focuses on picking up Morgan, which fortunately shouldn’t take that long, considering that Morgan’s school is only at least ten minutes away.

—•

He’s not tired in the least, his body seemingly now in a phase of constant alertness. But his stomach is rumbling viciously, he knows it’s been at least 7 minutes and 54 seconds since Tony left the room, and he swears Tony should be back now. But he’s not, there’s no sign of him, he knows he could ask Friday why Tony hasn’t come back yet, but he doesn’t want to come across rude and impatient. So he keeps his mouth firmly closed, keeping his questions to himself and reverting back to counting the seconds until Tony comes back. 

It’s only when it gets to 15 minutes that he gives up, forgoing the counting and picking up the remote on the table by his bed. He fiddles with the tv, flicking through multiple channels, only to find literally nothing of interest. When he gives up, it’s then that he realises that he needs to pee, only now feeling the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder. He tries his best to ignore it, but it’s futile, his bladder pushing to the front of his mind. Sighing, he pushes up on his arms, “Friday, where’s dad?”

“He’s currently not in the building Peter.”

Peter blinks in shock, before sighing in disappointment and sadness. Any thought of listening to what Tony had ordered him not to do flew out the window, he needed to pee and Tony wasn’t even here to help him. He pushed up with his arms until he was sitting up in the bed, he swung his legs around, big clunky cast and all. He stopped for a second, realising he had no idea how he was going to make it across the room to the bathroom. He decided to just go for it, intending to hop his way to the other side. Although, nothing ever really goes to plan, does it?

It happens all seemingly in the blink of an eye, arms pushing himself up. He goes to put all of his weight onto his left leg, but he doesn’t count on the fact that he hasn’t used it in a week. And right now it’s asleep, so placing his weight on a currently floppy and unstable limb is a big mistake. His leg collapses, body falling forwards towards the floor. His right leg is bent in it’s cast, putting his knee in the prime position to connect with the floor. All he hears for the next few seconds is the blood rushing in his ears, he knows he heard the crack his cast makes. Hesitantly he looks down, staring at the mess that is his knee. The cast is cracked all the way up to his hip, and the pain that zings through his thigh is excruciating, and all he wants is his dad. 

But his dad isn’t here, his leg hurts and his bladder is pulsing with every breath. He can’t hold on much longer, both the pain of his leg and of having to hold his pee in. The time blurs together, he doesn’t know how long he stays there, chest pressed to the floor. Hands clenched into fists, trying his best to breathe through the pain and not pee all over the floor. But he knows he’s fighting a losing battle, he doesn’t have a lot of energy or a lot of will left. 

He shifts, trying to move his left leg inwards, wanting to clench his thighs together in a desperate attempt to stop himself from embarrassing himself even further. But he knows he made a mistake, because as soon as he moves his leg, his bladder finally lets go. And all he can hear is the soft hiss as he pees across the clean carpet covered floor. Tears prick at his eyes, he tries to hold the tears in as well, but they escape too. A waterfall of salty water splashes down his cheeks, tears dropping down onto the floor and creating a puddle. When the stream of urine stops, he just gasps, sending him into a fresh round of sobbing. He keeps going until his eyes are red and puffy, and he’s so, so, so tired. 

He finally just lets himself sleep, no longer willing to hold on to consciousness, if it means he has to handle the embarrassment and the pain. 

—•

“Hey Morguna, shall we go see Pete?” Tony shifts Morgan higher on his hip, tucking a brown strand of hair behind her ear. 

She smiles up at him, tiny hands gripping the front of his shirt. “Yeah Daddy, I missed Petie all day!” 

Tony just chuckles, hugging her closer as he walks back down the empty hallways towards Peter’s room. He realises as he takes long strides towards Peter, that he forgot to tell him he’d left. It doesn’t really stand out as something that could have bad consequences. But as he steps through the doorway, he second guesses himself. Staring at his adopted son, lying front down on the soft carpeted floor of his own bedroom. 

He gasps, turning back around and slowly lowering Morgan to the floor. “I need you to do something for me sweetheart, can you go find Mommy, and i’ll come find you when you can see Peter?” 

“Ok Daddy.” She sounds disappointed, but she does what she’s told, she’s always been obedient. Doing anything that’s asked of her, she’s definitely more mature and smarter than most girls and boys her age. Tony can’t help but be proud of her, he knows how much she cares about Peter, so he knows it’s hard for her to leave Peter when he needs help.

As soon as she’s trudged her way out of the room, no longer in sight. Tony rushes to Peter’s side, ignoring the rather large wet stain on the carpet, which he knows by the smell is obviously urine. He rolls Peter over gently, wincing when Peter whimpers in his sleep. Once Peter is fully on his back, he can finally assess the damage, staring down at the large crack in the cast surrounding Peter’s leg. He’s thankful that Peter didn’t want to roll his trouser leg down over the cast, or he would have never seen the crack. He knows there’s obviously no way he’ll be able to move Peter by himself without causing any damage. 

“Fri, can you call Cho and Steve up here? And tell Cho to get a gurney, will you?”

“Of course Sir.” 

He doesn’t have to wait long, but while he waits, he focuses on stroking Peter’s hair. Scratching at his head, and trying to comfort Peter, even though he’s unconscious. He’s interrupted in his movements, by Cho rushing in, a gurney wheeled behind her and Steve by her side. “What happened?”

“I’m pretty sure he needed to pee, and he must’ve fallen down and broke the cast. I’m guessing because he never made it to the bathroom, he peed himself. He’s probably gonna be very embarrassed when he wakes up.”

Cho nods, walking over to kneel on the opposite side of Peter’s body. “Ok, well I want to get an X-ray done, to see if he’s rebroken his leg. It’s probable that he hasn’t, he could’ve just broken the cast and maybe bruised his leg. I mean, with his healing, his leg was already almost done, the last crack was already repairing itself.”

Nodding in agreement, Tony sighs, “Cap can you come over here and get him on the gurney?”

Steve kicks into gear, hurrying across the room and scooping Peter up gently. Peter doesn’t move to wake up the whole time Steve carries him across the room and lays him down. He looks peaceful though, fully unconscious, all stress lines relaxed. Tony loves to see him like this, happy. They don’t waste time in pushing the gurney out of the room, to the elevator and down to the medbay. 

—•

It’s nice here, in the black depths of his dreams. It feels safe and warm, he knows he’s asleep, he’s aware of that. He doesn’t want to leave though, he likes it here. He misses his dad, he does, but it’s so warm and comfortable here. He doesn’t have to worry, he can be free. 

He’s sure he’s never going to leave, he’s sure of it. Until the words flow in, the soft ones, from a voice filled with warmth. 

_ “Bambi.” _

_ “Please wake up cucciolo.” _

_ “It’s ok now, i’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.” _

_ “Please wake up.” _

He tries to hold onto them, but it’s hard to hold onto them and his dreams. Every time he gets closer to the voice, he feels himself waking up. He knows he can’t stay here, the voice is just so warm, he wants to be near it. To be surrounded by the arms it belongs to. So he gives up on the unconsciousness, on the dreams. 

“D-dad?” Peter blinks his eyes open, looking around the room until he sees his Dad. 

“Baby? You awake?” Tony looks tired, big black bags covering the skin underneath his eyes. His eyes bloodshot and red, hair a tousled mess. His hand is wrapped around Peter’s gently brushing his soft knuckles. 

Peter hums, tilting his head into the pillow and blinking his eyes a few times. “Do you remember anything Pete?” 

He doesn’t, but when he thinks for a while. It all comes back, everything. He blushes when he remembers exactly what happens, a few tears of embarrassment springing to his eyes and falling down his cheeks. 

Tony’s hand is quick to cup his cheek, thumb swiping across the smooth skin and clearing it of the salty tears. “Hey, it’s ok Baby.” 

“B-but it’s not, I- i pissed myself! Like a friggin baby, so don’t- don’t tell me it’s ok. God.” He cries out in frustration, tears now falling with rapid speed down his face. Tony just shushes him, standing up from the chair and wrapping him in a bear hug. It’s warm and makes him cry even harder, pressing his face into his dad’s neck. 

Once he’s finally calmed down, he falls back onto the bed, completely exhausted. Tony just smiles sympathetically, “Scoot over, cause i’m gonna sit here.” 

Peter does, wiggling his butt over to the other side of the bed, thankful when his leg doesn’t hurt. He’s even more thankful and grateful, when his Dad climbs up onto the bed next to him. Leaning against the headboard, half laying and half sitting. Tony pulls him into his side, letting Peter rest his head on Tony’s chest. Peter sighs, letting his eyes shut as he relaxes into his adoptive father’s body. 

“Before you ask, your leg isn’t broken again. The cast split, but your leg is fine. You do need to rest for a few days though, your leg was already still healing. I do need to apologise though, i-i should have told you i had left. I forgot Morgan, and then I forgot you too. I’m sorry baby, it was stupid of me.” Tony shakes his head, and as much as he hates to admit it, tears sprang to his eyes.

“It’s ok, I forgive you. I just needed to pee, and I tried to get up, but then my leg gave way. And then i-i tried to hold it, b-but i-i couldn’t. I’m sorry!” Peter cries. Tears streaming down his face, soaking his dad’s shirt. 

Tony pulls Peter in tighter, stroking his back comfortingly and wiping the tears away with his sleeve. “Hey, hey, shhh. It’s ok tesoro, it’s ok miele. I know you tried, but it’s ok, it happens to the best of us. I’m here now, it’s ok.” 

Peter sniffles, body shaking with every heart wrenching sob. It takes a long time for his tears to dry up, but once he’s done his eyes are red and puffy. He just snuggles even further into his father’s warm chest. “You okay now pumpkin?”

Humming Peter lets his eyes shut, snuggling even further into his dad’s chest. Tony smiles down at his son, stroking the back of his head and ruffling his soft curls. “Do you wanna sleep, or do you want to see Morgan. She can always come back later?”

“Mmm, Morgan.” Peter mumbles into his dad’s chest, slipping his eyes open to force himself awake.

“Fri, be a good girl and call Morgan in here will you?”

“Sure thing Boss.”

Tony and Peter savour the few moments they have left, until they finally hear the pitter patter of tiny feet. A bundle of joy running into the room and jumping onto the bed, she makes sure to snuggle herself on top of both of them. Right in the middle. She plants a loving kiss on Peter’s cheek, smiling brightly in her childish joy. “Hi Petie, I missed you. Are you ok now?” 

She looks so worried, eyebrows raised and eyes filled with hesitation. “I’m fine Mo, I missed you too.” He smiles reassuringly at her, raising a shaky arm up to stroke her hair. But she stops him after a few seconds, her face serious. She pulls his arm off, laying it gently down on the bed. “Go to sleep Petie, it’ll be ok.” It’s absolutely adorable, and Peter can’t help but smile. But he’s already so tired, eyes aching. He can’t stop himself from falling asleep.

Tony watches on with fondness, at his two kids caring and loving each other more than he could’ve hoped for. He’s so happy, when he first introduced them, he thought they never would’ve gotten along. Seeing as they weren’t related, he would’ve expected them to hate each other. But they were smitten in seconds, Morgan so happy to have a big brother. And Peter, 

equally ecstatic to have a little sister, it’s more than he could’ve ever asked for. 

He doesn’t stop himself from drifting off into sleep, after making sure both of his children were happily asleep as well. 

—•

He knows he’s obviously the second one to be awake, because there’s still the weight of Peter curled up against his side. But the small weight of Morgan, isn’t there. He feels his heart rate pick up, suddenly worried as to why Morgan wouldn’t be on the bed. But the worry is soon swallowed down when he sees Peter’s eyes blinking open, before he pushes himself up, still curled against Tony’s side. “Hey, where’s Morgan?”

Tony doesn’t get to answer his question before she’s bounding round the corner, three juice pops in her hands. She smiles cheekily, before handing two of them out to Peter and Tony. “Hey little miss, I thought I told you, you can only have them after dinner. Not for breakfast baby.” 

She only shakes her head, unwrapping one and forcing the food item into Tony’s hand. Making sure to help it to his face, successfully stopping him from telling her off. “For Petie, he deserves to have a juice pop. For being the bestest brother in the world.” Peter smiles at that, taking his juice pop from her hand and unwrapping it carefully. 

“Thanks Mo.” Peter pats his lap, inviting her to come back onto the bed. She does so energetically, and they all spend their morning, sucking on their juice pops. Tony forces Morgan to clean her hands afterwards, throwing the rubbish away and returning with a wet towel so he can clean Peter’s hands for him. Seeing as he can’t walk or stand himself. 

“So what do you want to do today Pete?” Tony asks, once they’re all settled back on the bed. 

Peter shrugs, “Could we watch a movie?” He bites his bottom lip to stop himself from shouting out with the movie he wants to watch. Because he’s always been taught to be polite, to ask what other people would like to do first. 

He knows he’s right when he feels Morgan start to wiggle in both of their laps, clearly barely containing herself from shouting her movie choice. But Peter decides she shouldn’t have to for long, stroking her back he asks, “What would you like to watch Mo?”

She giggles cheekily, before scrambling up to her knees, bouncing up and down. “Can we watch Frozen? Please Daddy? Please Petie?” 

They both chuckle at her childishness, before they turn to look at each other. Tony smiles at her, “Ok Morguna, we can watch Frozen. But then we have to watch something Pete wants to, ok?”

She nods in agreement, settling back into their laps while Tony brings the movie up on the holographic screen that Friday displays. 

Tony wouldn’t necessarily say he was excited to watch it, he was never truly a fan of kids movies. They weren’t really his thing, but it was for Morgan, so he would watch anything. But he had to admit, the songs were growing on him. And he couldn’t help himself from joining in with Peter and Morgan when they started to sing Let it Go. 

It was when they were well into their way of watching the second movie, which was of course Star wars: IV. That Tony nodded off, not of his own accord, he was helpless to stop himself. Morgan took that as an opportunity, quickly scurrying of the bed as quickly and quietly as possible. Peter not paying much attention, other than to the movie. He noticed her leave, but he trusted she knew what she was doing. 

She came running back, pen in hand. “Can I draw on your cast Petie?” 

Peter nods, “Sure Mo, just make sure you leave space for dad, he’ll probably want to now that you are.”

She nods in agreement, climbing back onto the bed. She makes sure to leave him a kind message, “Get well soon Petie.” With a little stick figure, before she starts doodling in the rest of some of the space. She draws stick figures of Peter, Tony, her and Pepper all holding hands. She gets bored after a while, glancing up at her sleeping dad. The idea comes to her quickly, she inches up the bed. Making sure not to lean on any part of her Father, lest she wakes him up. She uncaps the pen, the  _ permanent marker  _ pen. She doesn’t see Peter smiling over at her, chuckling at her under his breath.

She sticks her tongue out in concentration, which Peter can wholeheartedly agree is adorable. She draws thick lines over the gaps on his beard, filling in all of his chin. She also draws big glasses on his face, thick rimmed looking ones. As well as drawing a big spider on his cheek, and underneath she writes, “I love spider-Man.”

Tony doesn’t wake up for a while, but Morgan’s content to pretend like she did nothing once he does. But Peter can barely hold in his laughter, no longer concentrated on the movie. He manages to hold it in, until Tony walks into the bathroom to pee. Peter dissolves into fits of giggles along with Morgan after Tony shouts out of the bathroom. 

“Who’s the little Monster that drew on my face?”

He comes waltzing out, staring suspiciously at both of them. But when no-one answers, he makes his decision. “I guess……. Both of you are getting attacked by the tickle monster!” He comes running towards the bed, using one hand for each child. He attacks their ribs, wiggling his fingers into their sensitive sides. Smiling on as they both giggle loudly, both of them gasping for breath, before giggling even harder. 

He stops after a good few minutes, when they’re both flushed red and breathless. 

He smiles widely, pulling both of them into his sides. He tips their heads up to look at him, “I love you guys, you know that?” 

They both nod in unison. Peter being the one to speak up. “Yeah we do. And we love you too Dad.” Morgan nods in agreement. Tony swooping down to press a kiss onto the crowns of their heads. Holding his family safe and tight in his arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> The bit about the bathroom and having to listen to people go to the toilet. Is literally my life, my bedroom is right next to the bathroom. And trust me, It’s the worst.
> 
> Anyway, enough about gross stuff.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! I don’t usually write morgan or pepper but i hope i got them right!
> 
> Remember to comment what you liked or what you hated, and if you’d like you can go to my tumblr and request what bingo square you might like to see next in my list of bingo squares to write. 
> 
> It’s tonystankandpeteyboi


End file.
